The end of another season: we brought it home in style.
MRC buzzed with covert and overt activity as we got our mettle cranked up and our choppers ready to dance on. Except Treekiller who spent the whole time complaining about his teeth.
At launch our strike force was 24 pilots strong, from salted space veterans to babymaggots Runway and BadKat. Ships ranged from 5(!) HARVs to Nosepicker's bizarre single-thruster vessel, ancient rustbuckets like Catastrophe rubbing their gnarly thrusters with the glossy pink likes of HelloKILLY.
Our flight was smooth like a baby bottom running tubular slicks, and no mechanical trouble delayed us as YT navigated anfractuously through Cambridge and Somerville systems. We wound up at the pink-lit, cube-strewn corner of space below planet Zakim, there to perform the end-of-season rites.
For warmups, a medal of Flying Ace went to Wombat for his valiant victories at derby on occasions when Nosepicker was not present. Century medals predictably went to the crew of that mission
Stone cogs went to Piranha and a couple of pikers who couldn't be bothered to show up. Instisomething and Dreadfoo I think. Bronzes were awarded the diabolical Dr Claw, eXceSs, and (duh!) Civitron. And Treekiller (henceforth to be known as "Treekiller, the Quiet Storm") is this year's Iron. It was a moving ceremony and I hope someone will upload a picture of the cog because it's super cute.
Business done, we appreciated the breathtaking cold of deep space for a while, thanked each other and hugged to conserve body heat, then headed home.
SCUL's flight this mission was glorious. The funk was smooth, our ships were in full effect (shout out to Hackworth's fire-spitting SparklePony!), food and floaties alike were lit up with joy. I love
when we pass a T bus, the HARVs up at passenger eye level, and you can see a shockwave of smiles
go through it.
Closing ceremonies were as befits such a mission, with hazing of babymaggots, and cheers for our beloved Fleet Admiral that coalesced into a spiraling Huggicane! Then it was back to the fort for snacks and tequila from Metoikos, and sentimental good nights.
In closing, BAAANE THUUUNDERPANTS!